


Interlude

by grumpyphoenix



Series: Howl at the Moon [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 07:39:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2261397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumpyphoenix/pseuds/grumpyphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley and Dean get a little excited.<br/>(Porn)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude

In the silence after the carnage was over, the King of Hell's lips ghosted the back of his ear. Vaguely, Dean wondered if Crowley was standing on his toes.

"Yes" he said. 

Crowley pressed against his back, slowly crushing him against the wall. Dean braced himself against it and left a bloody handprint. He stared at it, transfixed. The King's firm hand pressed him downwards ever so slowly while pulling his hips outwards, Dean's ass grinding against Crowley. He was hard, painfully hard. Dean's vision swam, and he lost sight of the handprint as he hung his head between his outstretched arms.

"Yes." He said again, and Crowley bit the back of his neck, lightly. Then hard, making a bruise, then harder, drawing blood. His tongue played with Dean's ear, hot breath sending thrills down his spine. Then he pulled away. 

There was a pause. An endless pause where all Dean could do was pant, getting harder and more desperate. He tried to straighten, but Crowley's hand firmly pushed him down again, hard and unmovable on the back of Dean's neck. Dean clenched his hands into fists, wanting, and angry because of it. He could feel Crowley very gently thrusting, reminding him of what he could have, if he just did as he'd been bid. 

He hung his head. "Yes, " he mumbled. Crowley made a disapproving noise behind him, and he ground his teeth. "Please. " There seemed to be no response from His Majesty, except for the tender sweep of one thumb along the hair at the back of his neck, but Dean could feel his other hand reach between them, under him, and gently start to stroke Dean. It wasn't enough. Crowley knew it wasn't enough. Dean pushed backwards, and Crowley growled at him, and kicked Dean's legs apart so wide that he was forced to hold his weight against his palms on the wall. Crowley's hips snapped against him hard and fast, leaving them both breathless,and Dean.. Dean forgot himself and gave the king what he wanted. 

"Please, " he gasped, under his breath, then louder and louder as Crowley ignored him. "Please, Crowley, dammit, please!" The King's low gravelly chuckle sent twin thrills of need and rage through Dean, and he ground his teeth. 

Crowley could probably have used magic to make Dean's clothing go, but instead he relished making Dean work for it, pulling his pants down, and making him step out of them or lose his balance. His hands, though, reaching under and between brought Dean's focus back where it belonged. Crowley was hot and hard against him, and yes, spreading him, yes entering him, and yes, yes, yes, thrusting so deep and Dean howled triumphantly at the pain and pleasure and clawed at the wall, bucking back against Crowley, his King, panting his name, and yes, please, never stop, yes. 

Dean was always vaguely aware of promising things to Crowley while he was in this state, but he couldn't stop it, couldn't make his mouth stop, pleading and giving himself away, because all he could feel was Crowley splitting him open, and all he could smell was blood and Crowley, and then he came, jerking and screaming as if he'd been electrocuted, feeling Crowley pulse and fill him, his hand so hard around Dean's throat that his eyes rolled back in his head and he nearly blacked out. 

Crowley manhandled him, turning Dean's back to the wall, and kissed him. Dean kissed him back, urgent and filthy, his eyes black and deep. Slowly, he sank to his knees and kissed Crowley's palm, looking him in the eye. Crowley cupped his hand over Dean's jaw, watching him turn his face back into it. One finger ran over Dean's lower lip, and Dean's eyes turned up to meet Crowley's. They spent an eternity in those few seconds, drinking each other in. 

Slowly the smirk returned to Dean's lips, and the moment passed. Crowley stepped back, affecting a nonchalance that neither believed in, as Dean straightened and dressed himself, making a crude joke. When he turned back around, The King of Hell was gone. Dean spent longer than was necessary cleaning himself up, and when he found Crowley lounging in the Impala later, well.. the surge in his pulse, and the smile on his lips was no one's business but his own. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first porn I've really ever written. uhm. I hope it is okay.


End file.
